I love when we start packing. There are books. EVERYWHERE. Unfortunately, I'm short on space, so I can only grab a few. Here's a bit from the first one I grabbed.
"In vain the Dreamer rakes over his old dreams, as though seeking a spark among the embers, to fan them into flame, to warm his chilled heart by the rekindled fire, and to rouse up in it again all that was so sweet, that touched his heart, that set his blood boiling, drew tears from his eyes, and so luxuriously deceived him!"
WOW. Hello Nurse! This stuff is leaving me speechless. It's grand. Other than that I'm packing myself. And wondering where everybody went... I haven't heard from a lot of people in a long time. It's disconcerting.
I'm kind of apprehensive still about coming home. But I don't really get a choice in the matter. I want to come home more than anything and I don't. It's a really weird feeling and very, very hard to explain.
"It's all suicide if I hide.
Because you are everywhere I look and in my skin.
I taste your neck and lips just from breathing in.
Let's call it off, kid. "
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